Post by Craven on Feb 25, 2015 20:06:56 GMT -6
As Craven goes to get into his car to head to the Las Vegas airport, his brother and co-worker, Merlyn “Rocket” Harper walks up to him.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Dub, you goin’ for a drive again?
Craven nods.
Craven: Figured I’d fly this time and get a rental up there.
Rocket grins.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Business account?
Craven shrugs.
Craven: Vega told me it was cool because of what I’m using it for.
Rocket frowns.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: You told him… just straight up?
Craven nods, snickering.
Craven: Seemed to think it was a good cause.
Rocket cocks his head.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: What’d you tell him, that you would scout some Canadian hotties up there while you were there?
Craven chuckles.
Craven: No, he asked me to do that on his own.
Rocket nods.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: You ain’t taking your pill box are ya?
Craven shakes his head.
Craven: Left it at home. Found a place I can fill a script up there so I’ll be fine so long as I dump the script before I get back on the plane to come home.
Rocket nods slowly.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Are you sure this is a good idea?
Craven shrugs.
Craven: Better than sitting around waiting for shit to change.
He smiles and nods to the car.
Craven: Come on, you drive with me to the airport then you can use the car while I’m gone.
Rocket’s eyes go wide.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Dub…
Craven smiles and nods to him.
Craven: Somebody’s gotta help the girls get to and from work, right?
Rocket smiles.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Yeah…
Craven pats him on the shoulder.
Craven: Who better than you?
Rocket nods and the two embrace.
Craven: Sky knows I’m going, Sin and Brittany don’t.
He pauses and then shrugs.
Craven: Or, at least, I didn’t tell them. It’s possible that Sky will have told them before you pick them up tonight.
Rocket nods as he steps around to the driver’s side door, keys in hand.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: How long?
Craven shrugs as he steps into the passenger side seat for the first time in a long while.
Craven: Probably just a day or two, maybe just overnight.
Rocket nods and egst into the car, grinning all the way.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Ok…
The two ride to the airport to let Craven fly up to Canada.
Once, there, Craven rolls up to a house in a rental car and nods to the house before turning on his voice recorder.
Craven: You know, it’s sad listening to Kyle Travis because it doesn’t take long for him to prove he doesn’t pay attention at all and is completely unaware that how he sees himself is not how anyone else sees him no matter how much we all tell him.
Reaching down into his travel-sized pill box and retrieves a couple. He pops them down and then leans back against his seat.
Craven: First off, I have addressed things, you either just don’t pay attention or don’t care because well, it doesn’t fit into the little bubble world you’ve created wherein you’re right, everyone else is wrong and Kyle Travis should be treated as the greatest thing to ever come down the pipeline that is professional wrestling.
Pausing, Craven shivers and turns the car back on to use the heater.
Craven: Man, and I thought it was cold in New York…
He shudders again and then nods to the recorder.
Craven: Razor Sharpe was not a rookie off the street, I was. If we use your definition of rookie off the street, then you, Sentinel and Vince Jones were all just as much a rookie off the street as Quentin Sharpe was because Quentin was quite open about his previous career stops. Now, I realize it’s just easier to blow him off because you think it’ll make you look so much better than everyone else but all that tends to do is make you look like you’re either a complete retard, lazier than all hell or a pathological liar and I’m tending more and more to think you’re all three.
He pauses and glances over at the house, smiling as he does so.
Craven: Vega… oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you can’t be assed to read simple online files, Silver Baron had two choices when the Sin City Knights got their title shot. He could either choose a man in Quentin Sharpe who had a history in the business that stretches for the better part of a decade and crosses multiple companies or he could choose me, a man who at the time had history for about four months in the business and had never wrestled professionally prior to UWA. At the time, Quentin was also higher in the Pleasure Dome company pecking order as he had taken over for Fraser Freemen as head of security and thus was the logical choice and I didn’t feel slighted in the least. I was only a freelance consultant at the time so it was never my spot to be upset about.
Reaching back down into the pillbox, he pulls out another and swallows it quickly.
Craven: You know, I got lucky I could fill prescriptions up here in Canada. Handy bit of thing for somebody like me.
He nods and then sighs as he waits for the pill to kick in.
Craven: Now don’t ask me how Captain Straight Edge and Baron Von Drunk managed to get along despite that type of gigantic philosophical chasm because I don’t know and I honestly don’t think they knew either.
He pauses, grinning at the memories.
Craven: I do know that they were almost as entertaining sometimes as Baron and Mr. Davies have been with their discussions about the differences in lingo between the UK and North America.
He waves as he chuckles.
Craven: i know, I know, you don’t care ec ause one, you wouldn’t know why that was funny anyway and two, it won’t get you what you want and that’s what everything has to be about, isn’t it, Kyle?
He nods knowingly to the recorder.
Craven: It all has to be about you and what you want. It’s why you can’t help but talk about the past and why you’re here because every place you’ve been has told you something you didn’t want to hear so you spin it to be that they just treated you poorly instead of you were a thickheaded jackass that refused to adapt to what was going on around you at the time. It’s also why nobody but you believes you’re a legend, nobody buys that fake ass trophy case you love to show off and half of the roster doesn’t even believe you have a wife and kids!
He shakes his head in disgust as he glances to the house again.
Craven: Don’t worry, I believe… visual proof does tend to do wonders for such things…
He waves at the house he’s sitting in front of.
Craven: Been here a few times but you never did seem to notice that. I mean, was it the car? I know it’s not my usual ride and all but still, you’d think you’d notice a strange car parking right there.
Shrugging, Craven can’t help but laugh.
Craven: Been enlightening to watch sometimes, just to see you’re not even the family man you swear up and down that you are. Granted, after paying attention to just how much bullshit you sling all the time, who should be shocked that you’re about as qualified to be called a good father as I am and I’m a twenty-two-year-old kid just trying to make my way. You’re a thirty-five-year-old man that’s been up and down the road enough to know better, right?
He nods to the house and shrugs.
Craven: Granted, all you’re teaching them is how to lie out your ass, half ass a job you’re supposed to be good at and then blame it all on everyone else when you don’t get what you want. You teach them that mindless and senseless violence is ok so long as somebody told you no first so you can scream that you’ve been screwed and left no choice…
Shaking his head, Craven whistles in awe.
Craven: Man, and I thought my old man could be a douche sometimes, that’s an amazing track record. So do you beat them too when they tell you no or have they already learned that they get the crowbar again if they “talk back to Daddy?” I’d ask one of them but, I don’t think I wanna get that close to what happens when you genetically match whatever your wife is with the raw sewage that your bloodline is because no matter what she is, the combination is not gonna equal anything sparklingly awesome.
He pauses and then smirks.
Craven: Definitely not royal blood there...
Sighing heavily, he puts the car into gear and drives off down the road.
Craven: So what are we gonna do with you, Kyle? You’re obviously not what you used to be because if you’re even to be half believed, you should have been able to end me in five seconds at Cataclysm and all you did was prove you couldn’t get me with the Pridebreaker after you made such a big deal about how that’s what you were gonna do. You’ve made yourself into the ultimate punchline, Kyle, because nobody takes what you say seriously and, in fact, they all struggle to make it through one of your promos on the first pass because they know all they’re going to get is you telling them you’re awesome a thousand times mixed in with how your opponent is nothing and how the world owes you something.
Shaking his head in disgust again, Craven just looks around the rest of Calgary, Alberta, Canada as he goes.
Craven: Nobody owes you anything, Kyle. You’ve not shown this greatness since you got here and honestly, you never showed in NEW either. It’s actually kinda pathetic to listen to you whenever you bring up NEW in UWA because it’s been a fucking year! And honestly, what did you do there besides walk in with fanfare, prove almost immediately you didn’t deserve it and then start screaming at the guy who gave you the fanfare that you were being mistreated before pissing everybody else off so badly that they just started making fun of you?
He pauses, waiting impatiently for an answer.
Craven: Anything?
He turns a corner and just enjoys the scenery as he drives on.
Craven: You can’t answer that because the truth is that’s all that happened in NEW and that’s all that’s happened here too. Nobody is afraid of you, nobody looks at Kyle Travis and trembles in fear. everybody who finds out they’ve been booked against you groans at the pain of the ear they’re gonna have after forcing themselves to listen to you whine and then they start laughing when you do absolutely nothing that you said you would do to any of the wrestlers in the company. You promised me I would be broken and I’m still here. You promised Tedman you’d end his career and you fucking tapped out to him all while whining like a little bitch that you had to get in the ring with somebody you didn’t think deserved respect because he wore a cape, when in fact, Tedman has never worn a capoe. He wears a bear suit and, even though I know you won’t notice anyway, he was also doing way better than you since his arrival. Hell, he was high up on that scoreboard for the tournament for the title shot but somehow he was still not worth your respect. So how did it taste when he made you tapout, Kyle? How did it taste when the guy in the damn bear suit, not a cape, a damn bear suit, took off that suit and made you look like the rookie off the street you accused Razor Sharpe of being?
Pulling up to the airport, Craven pulls to the parking space and sighs heavily.
Craven: I don’t know why I’m bothering to waste my breath at this point Kyle, cause I’m pretty sure all that’s gonna happen is that you’ll blow everything off, tell me you have no reason to want to wrestle me even though Oliver gave you one in that, if you defeat me this time, you get your chance to challenge for championships in UWA again and then start asking why I didn’t try to beat your ass every waking second for the last six months while acting you didn’t notice anything about us having matches despite this being our third pay-per-view in a row.
He turns the car off and checks around for all of his personal belongings, making sure to find the pills above all else.
Craven: Oh, I know, it’s because it wasn’t exactly what you wanted again, right, Kyle? Oliver didn’t tell you that you could just leapfrog over everybody else to get a world title shot that you don’t deserve and thus it’s time to throw another bullshit tantrum as if you’re the immature kid off the street instead of me. That’s all you’ve been good at since you got here was throwing fucking tantrums like a damned spoiled two-year-old. Well boo fucking hoo, Kyle, nobody feels sorry for you and if you keep going like this, the only thing you’re gonna hear is everybody else laughing harder because you called me a pathetic lap dog and that pathetic lap dog kicked your fucking ass all over Topeka!
He grabs the voice recorder and steps from the car, bringing his travel box with him as well. he nods and starts walking away from the car, dumping the pills into a trash receptacle as he walks towards the airport terminal.
Craven: You can call me pathetic because I spent eight years chasing what I really wanted, but you know what, Kyle? I got exactly what I wanted and I got it while I was still young enough to enjoy it. You?
He shrugs as he crosses the parking lot.
Craven: You ain’t no spring chicken and all you got to show for the last few years is a bunch of bullshit complaints ain’t nobody listening to anymore anyway! So keep talking, Kyle. Keep showing your ass because it’ll make it all the sweeter when I kick your ass and you have even less of a reason for Oliver to give you anything ever again! Keep talking Kyle, because the only one who thinks you have anything to actually say, is you!
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Dub, you goin’ for a drive again?
Craven nods.
Craven: Figured I’d fly this time and get a rental up there.
Rocket grins.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Business account?
Craven shrugs.
Craven: Vega told me it was cool because of what I’m using it for.
Rocket frowns.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: You told him… just straight up?
Craven nods, snickering.
Craven: Seemed to think it was a good cause.
Rocket cocks his head.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: What’d you tell him, that you would scout some Canadian hotties up there while you were there?
Craven chuckles.
Craven: No, he asked me to do that on his own.
Rocket nods.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: You ain’t taking your pill box are ya?
Craven shakes his head.
Craven: Left it at home. Found a place I can fill a script up there so I’ll be fine so long as I dump the script before I get back on the plane to come home.
Rocket nods slowly.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Are you sure this is a good idea?
Craven shrugs.
Craven: Better than sitting around waiting for shit to change.
He smiles and nods to the car.
Craven: Come on, you drive with me to the airport then you can use the car while I’m gone.
Rocket’s eyes go wide.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Dub…
Craven smiles and nods to him.
Craven: Somebody’s gotta help the girls get to and from work, right?
Rocket smiles.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Yeah…
Craven pats him on the shoulder.
Craven: Who better than you?
Rocket nods and the two embrace.
Craven: Sky knows I’m going, Sin and Brittany don’t.
He pauses and then shrugs.
Craven: Or, at least, I didn’t tell them. It’s possible that Sky will have told them before you pick them up tonight.
Rocket nods as he steps around to the driver’s side door, keys in hand.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: How long?
Craven shrugs as he steps into the passenger side seat for the first time in a long while.
Craven: Probably just a day or two, maybe just overnight.
Rocket nods and egst into the car, grinning all the way.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Ok…
The two ride to the airport to let Craven fly up to Canada.
Once, there, Craven rolls up to a house in a rental car and nods to the house before turning on his voice recorder.
Craven: You know, it’s sad listening to Kyle Travis because it doesn’t take long for him to prove he doesn’t pay attention at all and is completely unaware that how he sees himself is not how anyone else sees him no matter how much we all tell him.
Reaching down into his travel-sized pill box and retrieves a couple. He pops them down and then leans back against his seat.
Craven: First off, I have addressed things, you either just don’t pay attention or don’t care because well, it doesn’t fit into the little bubble world you’ve created wherein you’re right, everyone else is wrong and Kyle Travis should be treated as the greatest thing to ever come down the pipeline that is professional wrestling.
Pausing, Craven shivers and turns the car back on to use the heater.
Craven: Man, and I thought it was cold in New York…
He shudders again and then nods to the recorder.
Craven: Razor Sharpe was not a rookie off the street, I was. If we use your definition of rookie off the street, then you, Sentinel and Vince Jones were all just as much a rookie off the street as Quentin Sharpe was because Quentin was quite open about his previous career stops. Now, I realize it’s just easier to blow him off because you think it’ll make you look so much better than everyone else but all that tends to do is make you look like you’re either a complete retard, lazier than all hell or a pathological liar and I’m tending more and more to think you’re all three.
He pauses and glances over at the house, smiling as he does so.
Craven: Vega… oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you can’t be assed to read simple online files, Silver Baron had two choices when the Sin City Knights got their title shot. He could either choose a man in Quentin Sharpe who had a history in the business that stretches for the better part of a decade and crosses multiple companies or he could choose me, a man who at the time had history for about four months in the business and had never wrestled professionally prior to UWA. At the time, Quentin was also higher in the Pleasure Dome company pecking order as he had taken over for Fraser Freemen as head of security and thus was the logical choice and I didn’t feel slighted in the least. I was only a freelance consultant at the time so it was never my spot to be upset about.
Reaching back down into the pillbox, he pulls out another and swallows it quickly.
Craven: You know, I got lucky I could fill prescriptions up here in Canada. Handy bit of thing for somebody like me.
He nods and then sighs as he waits for the pill to kick in.
Craven: Now don’t ask me how Captain Straight Edge and Baron Von Drunk managed to get along despite that type of gigantic philosophical chasm because I don’t know and I honestly don’t think they knew either.
He pauses, grinning at the memories.
Craven: I do know that they were almost as entertaining sometimes as Baron and Mr. Davies have been with their discussions about the differences in lingo between the UK and North America.
He waves as he chuckles.
Craven: i know, I know, you don’t care ec ause one, you wouldn’t know why that was funny anyway and two, it won’t get you what you want and that’s what everything has to be about, isn’t it, Kyle?
He nods knowingly to the recorder.
Craven: It all has to be about you and what you want. It’s why you can’t help but talk about the past and why you’re here because every place you’ve been has told you something you didn’t want to hear so you spin it to be that they just treated you poorly instead of you were a thickheaded jackass that refused to adapt to what was going on around you at the time. It’s also why nobody but you believes you’re a legend, nobody buys that fake ass trophy case you love to show off and half of the roster doesn’t even believe you have a wife and kids!
He shakes his head in disgust as he glances to the house again.
Craven: Don’t worry, I believe… visual proof does tend to do wonders for such things…
He waves at the house he’s sitting in front of.
Craven: Been here a few times but you never did seem to notice that. I mean, was it the car? I know it’s not my usual ride and all but still, you’d think you’d notice a strange car parking right there.
Shrugging, Craven can’t help but laugh.
Craven: Been enlightening to watch sometimes, just to see you’re not even the family man you swear up and down that you are. Granted, after paying attention to just how much bullshit you sling all the time, who should be shocked that you’re about as qualified to be called a good father as I am and I’m a twenty-two-year-old kid just trying to make my way. You’re a thirty-five-year-old man that’s been up and down the road enough to know better, right?
He nods to the house and shrugs.
Craven: Granted, all you’re teaching them is how to lie out your ass, half ass a job you’re supposed to be good at and then blame it all on everyone else when you don’t get what you want. You teach them that mindless and senseless violence is ok so long as somebody told you no first so you can scream that you’ve been screwed and left no choice…
Shaking his head, Craven whistles in awe.
Craven: Man, and I thought my old man could be a douche sometimes, that’s an amazing track record. So do you beat them too when they tell you no or have they already learned that they get the crowbar again if they “talk back to Daddy?” I’d ask one of them but, I don’t think I wanna get that close to what happens when you genetically match whatever your wife is with the raw sewage that your bloodline is because no matter what she is, the combination is not gonna equal anything sparklingly awesome.
He pauses and then smirks.
Craven: Definitely not royal blood there...
Sighing heavily, he puts the car into gear and drives off down the road.
Craven: So what are we gonna do with you, Kyle? You’re obviously not what you used to be because if you’re even to be half believed, you should have been able to end me in five seconds at Cataclysm and all you did was prove you couldn’t get me with the Pridebreaker after you made such a big deal about how that’s what you were gonna do. You’ve made yourself into the ultimate punchline, Kyle, because nobody takes what you say seriously and, in fact, they all struggle to make it through one of your promos on the first pass because they know all they’re going to get is you telling them you’re awesome a thousand times mixed in with how your opponent is nothing and how the world owes you something.
Shaking his head in disgust again, Craven just looks around the rest of Calgary, Alberta, Canada as he goes.
Craven: Nobody owes you anything, Kyle. You’ve not shown this greatness since you got here and honestly, you never showed in NEW either. It’s actually kinda pathetic to listen to you whenever you bring up NEW in UWA because it’s been a fucking year! And honestly, what did you do there besides walk in with fanfare, prove almost immediately you didn’t deserve it and then start screaming at the guy who gave you the fanfare that you were being mistreated before pissing everybody else off so badly that they just started making fun of you?
He pauses, waiting impatiently for an answer.
Craven: Anything?
He turns a corner and just enjoys the scenery as he drives on.
Craven: You can’t answer that because the truth is that’s all that happened in NEW and that’s all that’s happened here too. Nobody is afraid of you, nobody looks at Kyle Travis and trembles in fear. everybody who finds out they’ve been booked against you groans at the pain of the ear they’re gonna have after forcing themselves to listen to you whine and then they start laughing when you do absolutely nothing that you said you would do to any of the wrestlers in the company. You promised me I would be broken and I’m still here. You promised Tedman you’d end his career and you fucking tapped out to him all while whining like a little bitch that you had to get in the ring with somebody you didn’t think deserved respect because he wore a cape, when in fact, Tedman has never worn a capoe. He wears a bear suit and, even though I know you won’t notice anyway, he was also doing way better than you since his arrival. Hell, he was high up on that scoreboard for the tournament for the title shot but somehow he was still not worth your respect. So how did it taste when he made you tapout, Kyle? How did it taste when the guy in the damn bear suit, not a cape, a damn bear suit, took off that suit and made you look like the rookie off the street you accused Razor Sharpe of being?
Pulling up to the airport, Craven pulls to the parking space and sighs heavily.
Craven: I don’t know why I’m bothering to waste my breath at this point Kyle, cause I’m pretty sure all that’s gonna happen is that you’ll blow everything off, tell me you have no reason to want to wrestle me even though Oliver gave you one in that, if you defeat me this time, you get your chance to challenge for championships in UWA again and then start asking why I didn’t try to beat your ass every waking second for the last six months while acting you didn’t notice anything about us having matches despite this being our third pay-per-view in a row.
He turns the car off and checks around for all of his personal belongings, making sure to find the pills above all else.
Craven: Oh, I know, it’s because it wasn’t exactly what you wanted again, right, Kyle? Oliver didn’t tell you that you could just leapfrog over everybody else to get a world title shot that you don’t deserve and thus it’s time to throw another bullshit tantrum as if you’re the immature kid off the street instead of me. That’s all you’ve been good at since you got here was throwing fucking tantrums like a damned spoiled two-year-old. Well boo fucking hoo, Kyle, nobody feels sorry for you and if you keep going like this, the only thing you’re gonna hear is everybody else laughing harder because you called me a pathetic lap dog and that pathetic lap dog kicked your fucking ass all over Topeka!
He grabs the voice recorder and steps from the car, bringing his travel box with him as well. he nods and starts walking away from the car, dumping the pills into a trash receptacle as he walks towards the airport terminal.
Craven: You can call me pathetic because I spent eight years chasing what I really wanted, but you know what, Kyle? I got exactly what I wanted and I got it while I was still young enough to enjoy it. You?
He shrugs as he crosses the parking lot.
Craven: You ain’t no spring chicken and all you got to show for the last few years is a bunch of bullshit complaints ain’t nobody listening to anymore anyway! So keep talking, Kyle. Keep showing your ass because it’ll make it all the sweeter when I kick your ass and you have even less of a reason for Oliver to give you anything ever again! Keep talking Kyle, because the only one who thinks you have anything to actually say, is you!
